BOO!

MAKING SCARY FUN. Halloween is today. It's one of my favorites because we get to make what should be scary, eerie, sinister and creepy; fun.

The are some other notable days coming up that also have the potential to be scary, eerie, sinister and creepy. I'm hoping for some fun in their midst, but I'm skeptical. Here's the list:

November 1: Sign up for Medicare and choose a plan. I don't know whether to put my trust in Tom Selleck or Joe Namath.

November 6: Fall Back. At my age I'll take any opportunity to "gain an hour" even if it is the one we lost last spring. But I don't like that fact that it will be dark before "Wheel of Fortune" comes on.

November 8: Election Day. This is the scariest of all. I realize I don't live in Georgia, but the fact that Hershel Walker could actually become a U.S. Senator--one of the 100 most powerful, unrepentent people in the country, makes my skin crawl. Which brings me back to Joe Namath. No offense meant, but Joe and Hershel, I loved watching you play football, but I think I'll look to someone who's been hit in the head a few less times to guide my Medicare choices and to sit in the Senate casting policy-making votes.

November 10: Dental appointment. If you can't see the inherent terror in that...

November 11: Veteran's Day. My fear here is that we are forgetting. Forgetting the sacrifice. Forgetting the worth of a democracy worth fighting for. Forgetting the beauty of civility and common causes.

November 17: My oldest Grand-Girl will be 14. Please can we slow this down a bit. I'm scared, I'm in awe of the beautiful young lady she is. I'm daunted: how can I be the best Pops I can be to a 14 year old?

Here's a picture of her at four years old sitting next to her Mimi, anxiously waiting on the curtains to go up on "The Nutcracker" ballet.

The next picture is of her a few nights ago sitting next to her Mimi, anxiously waiting on the curtains to go up on "Lady of the Camellias" ballet.


November 24: Thanksgiving. Not much to fear here other than the power of gluttony. I do fear that the scale has tipped to ingratitude in our culture today. Arrogance seems to be valued over humility; power over servanthood. Hope is giving way to despair.

In an essay by David Brooks he notes a study of headlines published between 2000 and 2019 by 47 news outlets popular in the United States. "The headlines grew significantly more negative, with a greater proportion of headlines denoting anger, fear, disgust and sadness.

"The General Social Survey asks people to rate their happiness levels. Between 1990 and 2018 the share of Americans who put themselves in the lowest happiness category increased by more than 50 percent. And that was before the pandemic.

"Each year Gallup surveys roughly 150,000 people in over 140 countries about their emotional lives. Experiences of negative emotions — related to stress, sadness, anger, worry and physical pain — hit a record high last year."

TODAY IS HALLOWEEN. Really the only thing to fear is that we will all be judged by some little witch, princess or Spiderman on the quality of the offering we drop in their bag or bucket. Sure the days are getting shorter. I'm going to pay the dentist mightily (because Medicare doesn't cover dental) to learn I need to floss more. All of our Grand-Kids are getting too old for Pops' antics and stupid jokes. I miss my Dad, one of the last WW2 vets. The election will come and go, some will accept the results, some won't. But, at 6:30, Pat and Vanna will still be there. Thankfully, the political ads will be gone for awhile. And when the Medicare ads run, I will have that settled.

After Thanksgiving we will go to Utica Square in Tulsa with all of our kids and Grand-Kids and they will sit by Santa for a picture just like I did when I was a little boy and the world seemed simpler.

Before your treat bowl is empty this evening, turn off the porch light and eat the last few Snickers by yourself in the dark. [You are giving Snickers aren't you?]

Unknown

I’m writing this from a lovely campground where we spent the night and woke to a cool, refreshing rain. It’s a lot of pressure though, these words have to be good. You couldn’t script a scene more conducive to inspired writing.

Because my own inspired words are flowing meagerly, let me start with a few from one of the most inspiring writers of contemporary time—Wendell Berry. BTW: happy birthday, yesterday, Wendell.

“Always in the big woods when you leave familiar ground and step off alone into a new place there will be, along with the feelings of curiosity and excitement, a little nagging of dread. It is the ancient fear of the Unknown, and it is your first bond with the wilderness you are going into.”
— Wendell Berry

I’m not going to lie. As retirement draws near, I’m feeling a bit of “the ancient fear of the Unknown”. It’s not that I’m a workaholic or job-junkie. It’s not that I believe the role I play in the marketplace can’t be played by others. It’s not that I have some Trumpian savior-complex. It’s simple really: I’m addicted to a paycheck.

Is it science or speculation behind the statement that the two biggest fears people have are speaking before an audience and dying? Although I’m an extreme introvert, I’m not really shy and public speaking doesn’t bother me much. And when it comes to dying; I hold to the position of Woody Allen: “I’m not afraid of dying, I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”

For me Fear has pretty much been centered in those things like the Unknown, and lack of trust.

Take amusment park rides for example. While I have ridden a few of the mildly daring rides at amusment parks. I would never ride one at, say, the state fair. It’s not that I doubt the physics, or the compentency of the guy who engineered the ride. But, have you taken a close look at the guys who put those rides together after taking them apart two weeks ago at the carnival up the road? I’m not saying they don’t know their nuts from their cotter pins; but… I know this, I wouldn’t want to ride a ride that I had put together. (Note to self: Don’t try to put this ride called “Life” together by yourself. You have to ride it in to the sunset once it’s built.)

I try to own my fears, phobias, trepidations, and angst. I do know from whence cometh my hope; although you might not be able to tell it sometimes. I only hope that I can truly trust that HOPE.

Thining of Wendell Berry’s words again, imaging them as a conversation:
Here are the big woods.
   But the familiar ground is so; familiar.
But isn’t it exciting, aren’t you curious about the new place?
   But the nagging dread is real. There’s a reason it’s called the ancient fear of the Unknown.
It is your first bond with the wilderness you are going into.